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I’m thinking I’ll remember that Palm Sunday processional for a long time! I wonder if for you, like me, the excitement of processing into our newly remodeled sanctuary may be as close to the excitement of that first "Palm Sunday" processional as you’ve ever experienced. Maybe as close to the chaos of that first "Palm Sunday" also! It is Palm Sunday, the day in the church year where we remember Jesus’ kingly entrance into Jerusalem. From this side of the Palm Sunday story, however, we see the excitement of the processional into Jerusalem tinged with sobering awareness of what lies ahead. Beneath the excitement lies betrayal and crucifixion—the shouts of "Hosanna" turning into shouts of "Crucify him!" But, let’s stay with the excitement for a moment. One exciting thing about the story is the remarkable "foretelling" of events that occur. To begin with, there is Jesus’ foretelling of the circumstances in which the disciples will find the colt Jesus will ride into Jerusalem. "Go into the village ahead of you…you will find a colt tied there…when someone asks you what you’re doing, tell them, ‘The Lord needs it.’" And so, the disciple go to the village, find a colt tied there, untie it and people ask, "What are you doing?" The disciples answer as Jesus told them to and the people let them go. What do you suppose the disciples thought of that? They’d seen that type of foretelling from Jesus before. Do you suppose the electricity of wonder and excitement ran through them? Then there is the prophecy of Zechariah that serves as the quote for our bulletin cover this morning. Mark doesn’t quote Zechariah like Matthew does—Matthew’s purpose to his Gospel is to convince Jewish readers that Jesus is the promised Messiah. Consequently, Matthew is constantly quoting Old Testament passages as being fulfilled in Jesus Christ. Mark’s readers are Greeks so the Old Testament connection wouldn’t mean much to them. Yet, clearly behind the image of Jesus riding into Jerusalem is the prophecy of Zechariah written some 480 years before Christ about the coming of Israel’s king to Jerusalem: "Rejoice greatly, O Daughter of Zion! Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey," (Zechariah 9:9). Mark’s target audience isn’t the Jews, but the disciples and the crowd among the first "Palm Sunday" processional are mostly Jews. Surely some of those who were in the crowd that first "Palm Sunday" had the words of Zechariah come to mind. Is this Jesus the king spoken of by Zechariah? The speculation of Jesus as the king of Zechariah’s prophecy would also have been fueled by the action of Jesus riding this donkey, or mule, into Jerusalem. Earlier in Israel’s history, their kingly leadership was in question as King David was close to death. Who would follow David? One of David’s many sons, Adonijah and probably his oldest living son, makes a move to claim the throne. If he’s the oldest living son, it’s a justifiable move. However, another son of David—more favored by David than Adonijah is—makes his claim for the throne. Through a series of maneuverings, this son places himself in a very public position that shouts, "I am the new king!" One very public maneuver was to ride in a royal procession on David’s mule. Who won the throne? If I told you the name of the other son of David is Solomon, would you have your answer? The crowd at that first "Palm Sunday" certainly made that connection, shouting, "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David!" There must have been great excitement…and wonder at this kingly entrance of Jesus into Jerusalem. Who is this Jesus? Can he be the king spoken of by the prophet Zechariah? Is he the promised Messiah from the line of David? Perhaps most important to them, will he rid our country of the foreign occupation by Rome and restore the glory of the kingdom under King David? But, we know people are fickle. The tide can quickly turn, the enthusiasm can suddenly wane. We see it in sports all the time. You’re only as good as your last at-bat. You’re only as good as your last pass, your last shot, your last season. People who were on their feet cheering you one moment are standing and booing you the next. It happens also in politics. Gene Smith wrote a book entitled When the Cheering Stopped. It’s about President Woodrow Wilson—who was a Presbyterian, by the way—and his attempts to lead the world through World War I and to a lasting peace. Following World War I, Wilson toured Europe where he was greeted as a hero. In America, Wilson was first hailed as a hero as well. But then, European leaders began to address their own agendas and Wilson’s popularity in Europe faded. In America, Wilson failed to persuade Congress to accept his proposal for a League of Nations and soon the cheering stopped. Under the stress of it all, Wilson’s health failed. Eventually, he suffered a stroke and a presidency that once seemed so promising and exciting ended in weakness and defeat. The excitement of popularity with the masses is fleeting. It happens in sports. It happens in politics. It happens in life. The adulation of a kingly entrance quickly turns into a chorus of condemnation as a criminal. I think the question for us on this Palm Sunday is can we sustain the enthusiasm? Enthusiasm, not for a building or renovations to a sanctuary, but for what is represented here—a place to offer our worship and praise to the Lord our God, a building from which we carry out the ministry and mission of God’s Kingdom in the world. Can we sustain enthusiasm for that? Let’s not make the mistake of the crowds that celebrated Jesus as king on that first Palm Sunday. They shouted their "Hosannas," but with a particular agenda in mind. I suspect for most of them, their kingly agenda for Jesus involved restoring the splendor of David’s Israel. When Jesus failed to do that, making clear, in fact, that his kingdom—and his mission for that kingdom—had nothing to do with political power or military might for Israel, the cheering stopped and the crowd turned against him. For some, I suspect their kingly agenda for Jesus involved validating their positions of piety and power. When Jesus failed to do that, making clear, in fact, that his kingdom and his mission for that kingdom looked very different than the kingdom they saw themselves leading, they turned against him and sought ways to get rid of him. I imagine that each one of us comes to the procession of this Palm Sunday with certain expectations and hopes for the kingly reign of Jesus. Surely that reign will look like this…the work of the kingdom to be done in our lives will certainly look like this…and Jesus has this habit of doing the unexpected in the lives of those who choose to follow him, of those who seek to serve him in the work of the kingdom of God. Behind the kingly entrance of Jesus on that first Palm Sunday stood events unimagined in the mind of his disciples—even though he had told them what was to come. Behind that processional stood betrayal, agony, and crucifixion. But also, behind that processional stood resurrection—a victory in the kingdom incomprehensible to those who shouted "Hosanna" in the excitement of that day. As we celebrate Holy Communion in the excitement of this day—a sacrament that reminds us of the cost behind Jesus’ kingly entrance into Jerusalem and which we receive again on Thursday night marking that night of betrayal and arrest—let us come forward this day to receive it with excitement over the kingly reign of Jesus in our lives, an excitement that is tempered by the acknowledgment that it is Christ’s rule and Christ’s reign over us—and in that, he just might do the unexpected. |
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